


Son of a fool

by TheMusicalCC



Category: Ghostbusters (Comics), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Grieving, Healing, Loss, Parenthood, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-12 09:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMusicalCC/pseuds/TheMusicalCC
Summary: He cradled the child closer to his chest, looking left and right one last time before nudging the basket into his house with a foot and shutting the door.That was how Walter Peck first met his son, Brannon.(Peck's journey through parenthood with a child that is a mystery himself.)





	1. Chapter 1

The infant stared at him. Peck knew enough about babies to know such a young child shouldn’t be able to actually see him, but the dark eyes were following him and seemed attentive to his movements. Why the hell not, he figured, it was not as if things weren’t bizarre already; because said child laid in a wicker basket left on his doorstep after a quick knock (Despite the fact that he lived in an apartment building and not a cottage in the middle of the woods) wrapped in a sheepskin and wearing a knitted cap with his name on it. 

Peck stammered, mouthed, looked left and right and then back at the baby, who seemed just as disconcerted. Against his best judgment, the man picked the child up from the basket to see him from up close and just like that, the pieces fell into place. 

Because he had been on a steady relationship less than a year ago. 

Because the woman he’d been involved with had left in less than ideal circumstances, the kind where she certainly wouldn’t have considered sharing any life-changing news with him. 

Because this child looked like that woman in a way that was obvious for anyone with eyes. 

And, finally, because the child’s minuscule nose reminded him of his late mother's, of his own. 

He cradled the child closer to his chest, looking left and right one last time before nudging the basket into his house with a foot and shutting the door. 

That was how Walter Peck first met his son, Brannon. 

* * *

“You are not to tell anyone else about this” Janine’s attention snapped from the washing machine where her laundry was still spinning in soapy water and to him, a half-scowl on her face, and he hurriedly added, trying to sound less like he was demanding something “About the way I found Brannon. Don’t tell the Ghostbusters” 

“You sure about that? The kid  _appeared_  in front of your doorstep” her voice turned into a hiss, as she eyed the almost-empty laundromat to see if anyone was listening to them. Judging by the fact that the only other handful of clients at the time were either napping over the chairs or chatting amongst themselves, it wasn’t an issue “This has  _got_  to be something in their area of expertise” 

“I am sure. I’d rather not have my son tested until kingdom come for something he clearly was not in control of” 

“I’d like to say you’re exaggerating but I’ve met Egon and Ray” Janine sighed, rubbing her forehead. Peck knew it wouldn’t be easy on her to lie to her employers because they were much more than that, and he appreciated that she had accepted doing it without so much as a thought. She hadn’t pressed him on the matter of  _how_  or  _who_  had placed the basket on his door, either. It made him realize his trust wasn’t misplaced when it came to Janine Melnitz “Alright then, what’s your cover story?” he blinked at her and her face fell “You don’t have one” 

“I hadn’t thought about it” things had happened too quickly, really, and- 

Why did he have the feeling that they were being watched? 

“Well, you better do it quick, people are gonna have questions” Janine set her eyes on the brand-new baby carriage and its occupant, asleep after his first meal given by his father. Peck had handled himself rather well during the task for someone who had never fed a baby, but he had a feeling that out of all the things he had little time to learn how to do, it was probably the easiest “Where’s the mother?” 

“Gone” he dropped dryly. She seemed to be waiting for him to elaborate but he didn’t. 

“For good? She’s not coming back?” he didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to admit it. Much less because part of him desperately wished she would and he feared it would be obvious if he talked about the matter “If you’re sure she’s not, then I guess...” she trailed off 

“What?” 

“Well, it won’t do any good to the kid to know he was...well...” 

“Dropped in front of someone’s door like an orphaned kitten” Peck said, smiling bitterly. 

“That’s one way of putting it, I guess” Janine was eyeing him with worry etched to her features, so he made an effort to calm down, running a hand down his face. 

“What are you thinking?” 

“Tell people the mother is dead” 

Peck rubbed his eyelids and took a deep breath. 

“She may as well be” he muttered “Alright, it’s not a bad idea. His mother died and the custody was assigned to me. Sounds perfectly reasonable” 

“You can probably handle the legal aspects, I don’t know those, but that would be the gist of it”  

“Forge papers, you mean” 

She seemed alarmed, eyes flashing around to check for any listeners on the surroundings again. He did so as well, but more subtly. The feeling of eyes on him was still there. 

“Are you for real?” she hissed under her breath. 

“Miss Melnitz, when have I not been ‘For real’?” he responded in the same hushed tones. 

“I mean...” Janine’s eyes set on Brannon again, pensive “...he’s Ava’s, isn’t he?” when Peck squirmed at the name, she seemed to take that as an affirmative “I could have known. He looks like her” 

“He does” was all that Peck conceded. 

“You can probably trace his birth certificate with his mother’s name, right? Or look him up as Brannon Veal” 

“It won't work. It seems likely that his mother had him while in her homeland” 

 _And no papers are needed there_ , he mentally added.  

“You wouldn’t have access to them, huh?” Janine nodded, rubbing her mouth thoughtfully “Forging papers, though... it’s kind of a big thing” 

“What would you do if this were your son?” he asked tiredly. She threw him a look that was half-incredulous, clearly questioning whether a child he’d just learned existed a couple of hours ago was worth such a big risk, but her expression shifted, something he couldn’t quite identify moving in her. Just then, the feeling of being watched seemed to intensify and he could bear it no more, looking behind him and to the street through the glass of the laundromat’s window. Nothing there but some pedestrians and a couple of birds. One took off before his eyes, and he eased his shoulders. Whatever had been watching him, was gone. Janine moved her head, conceding. 

“Alright, I see your point. Besides, this is too weird and people would probably think you stole him or something. I get it” she let out a huff “Just  _make sure_  everything looks like it’s properly done, OK? I would hate to have to give you reports in jail” 

He snickered dismissively. 

“Naturally” 

* * *

His walk home after dropping Janine with her laundry at the apartment she shared with Spengler was a good chance to look over what they’d talked about and see the sense in it. The truth was no one could come claiming he’d kidnapped Brannon and even if they did- well, if he did good enough a job with the papers, they’d have no ground for it. It was a gamble, but a pretty good one. Walking past a small park, he could see mothers watching their young play in the sandboxes and his heart had a pang of anger. His boy would think his mother was dead. He’d have a certainty Peck himself didn’t have. What if she did come back to claim him at some point, would Brannon blame Peck for lying? It wasn’t fair, he knew, but what choice did he have? After all, had it been fair from the mother to have Brannon without telling him? Was it fair at all to just drop him on Peck’s arms as she saw fit? Did it make any sense at all to take this responsibility upon him despite not being ready, not having had any warning or even knowing anything about babies? 

Brannon yawned inside his stroller and Peck realized it wasn’t like he had a choice. The boy needed him- and call him what they might, he was not the kind of person to turn his back on a son that needed him. If that included lying to him to protect him, he’d so it, without a doubt. 

Upon arriving to his building, the feeling of being observed came back with a vengeance and he took his sweet time looking around, pretending to be looking for his keys in his pockets. Cars passed by at a good pace to steal a glance at him but not nearly enough to make him this uncomfortable. None of the people walking past him on the sidewalk were looking at him. Hell, the only glance he earned was from the doorman upon seeing him arrive with a baby and slack off on the building’s door. 

 _The other building's windows_ , he realized and looked up to check whether anyone up there was looking down, but aside from birds standing on the cables, there was no one. Maybe it was the birds, he thought, and barked with laughter just once, retrieving his keys to go inside.


	2. Chapter 2

He was a bit scared to realize that Brannon left him sleep through the first night. For a moment, a paranoid idea that he would not be in his stroller when he looked into it in the morning took over. But no, there he was, sleeping like a log. Peck was tempted to phone Janine, ask if it meant he was sick, but something about the way she’d behaved the day before told him she had her own troubles to think about, on top of the fact that him calling her too much would be suspicious. A doctor seemed a better alternative, but... he eyed the sleeping baby. Without his cap, he looked much more like his mother, both because the scarce shadow of his growing hair was dark and because of his ears.

Pointed.

Peck knew enough about doctors to tell most of them liked to earn some fame at the stake of their patients’ privacy, and privacy was something he desperately needed for the boy, at least until he could cover all the paperwork he needed to keep people from asking too many questions he had no answer for.

But, first things first, he headed for the window to open the binds, letting golden sunlight in- and promptly stumbled back, cursing, almost falling on his butt, making enough noise to make Brannon wake and whimper at the rude awakening.

Walter Peck had seen ravens before, of course. Mostly in Ireland, where he’d spent many a holiday of his childhood and teen years; but one thing was to see the faraway silhouette of a midnight-colored bird in the pale and misty morning, or even hear the lonely caw as  he traversed over a threaded dirt road among the thicket and another was to look out his own bedroom window in the middle of New York to see one perched right outside looking inside with morbid concentration. As if this weren’t enough, the bird was huge, big enough that Peck would effortlessly imagine it making off with an average-sized cat. Speaking of cats. He looked around, expecting to find at least one of them peeking into the bedroom as they usually did at this time of the day, but they were nowhere to be seen. His eyes set on the bird again- and suppressed a shiver at the realization that its eyes weren’t set on him, rather, on the stroller.

He’d been feeling observed ever since the day before. Both times he’d looked to see who it was, there had been birds there. Birds, like this one.

And it had a beak that looked rather sharp. And big, horrible talons.

This snapped him back in action, he stood between Brannon and the raven, seething.

“Shoo!” he waved his arms at the animal, but it only looked at him as if in puzzlement “Get out of here, shoo! Scram!” he opened the window to throw a slap at the animal, missing narrowly but it still managing to make the raven start in surprise and take off “That’s right, fly away! Go! And don’t come back!” he slid the window shut again, shivering, and immediately went to Brannon to make sure he hadn’t gotten the chill from the open window. The kid seemed fine. Much calmer than Peck himself.  _Blessed ignorance._

What the hell was  _that_  all about?

Breakfast rolled by with unused calm. Peck was used to rushing through the process in order to get to work in time, but as he had asked for some days off to deal with... the situation at hand, he found himself bored to death and unsure of what to do with his day fifteen minutes into his morning coffee. He’d found two of the three cats asleep on the couch still unperturbed by the apartment’s new occupant, and the third one, Luna, lounging over one of the kitchen chairs, looking at him with a face that seemed to reproach his calm. Then Brannon began whimpering and he was reminded of the fact that the child had slept all night long without an interruption, surely he had to be hungry. Fast as he was at getting the formula ready as per package instructions, though, he still didn’t manage to do it before the boy let out a wail that seemed to shake his apartment like an earthquake, glasses and dishes rattling in their shelves, windows quivering. Luna jumped a yard or two into the air and fled the kitchen for dear life. Peck covered his ears, gritting his teeth until the scream died out. Good lord, the little one sure had good pipes. And he was getting ready to use them again, sobbing and gasping for air.

“Hey, no, shhh. Son, shhh” Peck picked him up from the stroller and bounced him a bit. Janine had emphasized that he needed to talk to Brannon, to make him get used to his voice, but what could he say? He’d never paid thought to what he could say to a baby at all and the agitation of the moment made it harder for him to think “I know you’re hungry, I’m sorry, I’m doing this as fast as I can”

The contact seemed to ease Brannon a bit, but he was still sobbing and hiccupping when Peck finally could put the bottle to his mouth to feed him. Quickly enough, he was too focused on eating to think about crying. 

The shopping list for the previous day had included some books on how to care for babies and while Peck had been the tiniest bit offended by them (Particularly one that read ‘Child-rearing for dummies’ which Janine had seemed delighted to pick up from the shelf for him) he soon found himself grateful they’d gotten them. Changing Brannon’s diaper, putting him down to nap and even giving him his first bath in the brand-new baby tub would have proven near-impossible without the kind of step-by-step, clear instruction they gave him. By the time night came, between deliveries of things he’d bought the previous day, phone calls from PCOC to keep him up to date with things and his running around with the baby, Peck felt a bit more optimistic about his capacity, confident enough to place the baby in his own bed to sleep, after securing every edge with a pillow. The crib had arrived somewhere around eight, but he’d felt too tired to put it together just yet. Just as he went to take one last peek at the street, he was greeted once again by the sight of the raven. He barely held back from swearing out loud in surprise and anger.

“You again?” he hissed at it. When the raven didn’t seem very concerned that he’d been seen, he checked that Brannon were properly wrapped in his baby mink and then opened the window slowly. The night air gave him gooseflesh as he leaned on the frame, glaring at the animal “What the hell do you want?”

Whatever it was, Peck was not to know, as the raven simply blinked at him and cocked its head, as though wondering what this noisy mammal was going on about. He sighed.

“Away with you” he waved a hand at the bird, not really trying to hit him, but with enough force to let it know he meant business. The raven only leaped a bit to the right, as thought to acknowledge he’d seen the movement, but didn’t take off “Are you stupid or something? Go! Leave!”

Eyes like dark inky spots set on him but there was no response. An idea, so crazy it might just have been right, crossed Peck’s mind. His hands fell and his mouth was dry.

“Is that you?” he muttered, barely a breath, and then he licked his lips and repeated, louder “Is that you? Are you...are you in there?” the raven had no discernible reaction and Peck was suddenly feeling very foolish and very angry. He stretched to smack at it and the raven finally took the hint and took off, flying away “And stay away! Or I’ll... I’ll get a gun and shoot you down!”

He slammed the window back shut and wiped his face. Tears or sweat? He wasn’t sure. Brannon was still peacefully asleep and he gazed at him for a moment, letting his heartbeat come to a normal rhythm. He briefly considered getting a quick shower, but leaving the child alone suddenly seemed an even dangerous thing. Not that he really thought the raven could come in if it wanted to, but...

Well, stranger things had happened.

 He set down to sleep, eyes set on Brannon’s chest as it rose and fell slowly...

...and proceeded to have a nightmare.

In his dream, he heard singing, a melody he didn’t recognize, and his eyes snapped open, searching for the intruder. There were no words, just a hum that reminded him of a cat’s purring, how it made his insides warm and his mind calm, so he’d let himself be lulled, eyes blinking shit once more, a content sigh escaping his lips...

Until his mind processed the image his eyes had caught upon opening them. A tall, pitch black figure rocking Brannon’s small body in its arms, red eyes glowing like coals in the dark.

He woke in a cold sweat with the sun already rising and Brannon still asleep beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the feeling Peck is not going to be a fan of Hitchcock's 'The birds' after all of this.


	3. Chapter 3

He started with the crib once he and Brannon had their breakfast, with the cats claiming the boxes with the pieces as their own the minute they were empty. Brannon, laying in the carpet, seemed intrigued by them, and often reached for their tails when they stepped close. 

“I wouldn’t do that, they could scratch you” Peck said, struggling with what he assumed to be the railing side of the crib. He didn’t think the cats would, though, they seemed pretty content with Brannon despite the noise and the shift in the daily routine he’d implied. Pangur Bán, the white cat, had even gone far enough as to sit by the boy amicably, purring up a storm. Peck wasn’t surprised, honestly, the boy’s mother had also somehow won the cats over practically from the start. He could almost see her lounging on the sofa, her heels forgotten somewhere and her feet propped up by a cushion, laughing about something or other while scratching Pangur’s ears, Luna trying to cuddle over her shoulder and P.V. warming her feet, her smile almost glimmering with child-like glee.  

He sighed. Damn the woman, he still missed her.  

Peck looked down at what he was doing only to realize the instructions might as well have been written in chinese for all he understood. With a sigh, he got to his feet, stretching his back. He really needed a shower. He debated with himself over getting one or not for a couple of minutes, not wanting to leave Brannon alone (In case of... what? He didn’t know himself, all he knew was the word danger seemed to pound in his ears and head whenever he thought of so much as leaving the room without him.) but desperately  _needing_ to feel clean and to think the way only a shower allows you to. Finally, and trusting if anything happened he’d know thanks to the cats, he undressed and stepped into the shower. 

The cool water helped him feel less like a cluster of tired muscles and impending headache. He let it run over his body for a good while before actually making any attempt to clean himself. It was a little longer a shower than he usually allowed himself, and he felt a little bit guilty about it when he finally did step out, refreshed, but he needed it as much as he needed the fresh clothes and slight trim to his beard and mustache and deodorant and cologne. He needed the semblance of normalcy, even if for a minute. He didn’t even think twice about sporting one of his usual suits, even if he wasn’t planning on going out at all. Just something- anything that could make him feel less out of balance would do- 

“ _Why_  did I pick this tie?!” Peck asked to no one in particular. The cats looked at him as though warning him to watch his tone and Brannon blinked at him benignly. He slid the slip of wine-red silk off his neck and looked at it as though it were the corpse of a poisonous snake “I thought I’d thrown it away” 

No, of course he hadn’t. First because it was a fine tie and as any person who’d grown in a house where ends were barely met every month, he cringed at the sole thought of wasting something that was clearly worth a lot of money. And secondly because it was a cycle. He’d see it, he’d recognize the color -her color- and remember how it looked against her skin, against her hair; how it had looked between her fingers when she gave him the tie, how it had looked when he wore it the first time and looked at himself in the mirror and she’d placed hands over his shoulder and given him an appreciative look-over and rested her head against his shoulder-blade to hold him close... 

So he’d get mad, and squeeze the fabric between his fingers, as though trying to rip it, and walk to the kitchen to throw it into the garbage disposal or out the window or- anything, just rip it apart or get rid of it and forget it ever existed. Sometimes he’d even manage to be halfway through doing that by the time he stopped, eyes pinned to the damn thing, desperately trying to will himself to let go. 

Just let go. 

Then he’d sigh and put it back on the hanger, ready for the cycle to start over. As he did once he’d gone through all the steps this time. He grabbed a forest green instead and turned to the window as he tied it, wishing to assess the time based on daylight and there it was again, the raven. This time, he’d barely even charged that way when it took off, leaving only a patch of blue, bright sky in its place. As he forced himself to calm down – _it's just a stupid bird. Just a stupid bird_ \- he found himself thinking the weather was perfect for a stroll. His eyes traveled to the scattered pieces of the cradle, though, as he reproached himself to be thinking about that when there was much to be done. Still- he had to face it, he was getting nowhere with it and he wasn’t sure he could. 

His eyes then fell on the red baby cap Janine had made him get for the boy, in the same wine-red tone that so favored his mother. Had it been on purpose? Perhaps. Perhaps she’d thought of it as a way to help him cope or perhaps she just had a really good eye for colors and knew it would look good on Brannon. Peck could live with not knowing, and it did look good on the little guy once he placed it on his head. 

“Good-looking kid” Peck muttered with a breathy laugh, and peered at the sky again “...let’s go for a walk, son” 

* * *

The first one to notice was Janine, but since she’d met Brannon, she didn’t make a fuzz about it, greeting Peck calmly. Now, Jenny- Jenny had always been the kind of person to make a fuzz about things that excited her, and her time in the Containment Unit had managed to make this characteristic of hers double up, perhaps because she wasn’t going to take good things for granted anymore. Floating over Janine’s head reading some file or other when she spotted him wearing the brand-new baby carrier and a baby to match, she’d made a noise that was something like a gasp mixed with a chipmunk’s battle cry. 

“BABY!” within the second, she was already floating before Peck, sparkling eyes set on Brannon, who seemed deeply unimpressed that a ghost of all things had approached him “ _Ohmygosh_ , Walter! Who is this?” then, without  awaiting  for a response, she reached for one of his hands and shook it as if to say hello. Brannon let her do.  Venkman, having raised from his office seat at the sole mention of  the word ‘ _B_ _aby_ ’, was next to them almost immediately, face lighting up considerably at the sight of the boy. He almost didn’t seem to mind that he was attached to Peck. 

“Hey, li’l buddy!” he called, bowing slightly in order to look into the baby’s face “Pecker, I think your sourness is contagious, the kid caught it” 

Attracted by the noise, the other three were coming down the stairs, followed by Kylie, who’s jaw all but dropped at the sight and she hurried down the stairs to get a better look. 

“Where’d you get a baby, boss?” 

“Ray, didn't you give her  _the talk_?” Venkman fake-scolded. 

“Miss Griffin, Miss Moran, Miss Melnitz, gentlemen.  _Mr._ _Venkman_ ” he nodded to each in turn “This is my son, Brannon” 

A dumbfounded silence followed his words, eyes scanning his face for a punchline and then the baby’s for confirmation. Zeddemore whistled and shook his head once as if to clear it. 

“I have questions” 

“Wow, I mean- uh, congrats? Uh. I also have questions” Kylie stammered. 

“No DNA test required, he’s yours alright” Venkman piped “Just look at that scowl- Ooh, now you match” he added at Peck’s pointed glare. Egon began to take out his PKE meter, but before Peck could demand for him to lower it, Janine reached for his arm, throwing him a stern glance. 

“He’s a baby, Egon, for crying out loud” 

“I apologize, but this was surprising” 

“He’s not a ghost, I assure you” Peck said, trying to sound as mockingly stern as usual, despite feeling faint. He should have known Spengler wouldn’t be above scanning an infant. 

“Where did he come from?” Zeddemore asked, not looking very convinced. 

“And again- _Raaaaay_ -” 

“His mother is-” Peck started, his throat seeming to clamp down before he could finish. He swallowed and cleared his throat “She’s not able to care for him, so the custody went to me. He will be staying with me from now on” 

“I see...” Stantz looked like he wanted to say something else, but probably decided against it “Um, well, congratulations. What’s the little guy’s name, again?” 

“Brannon” 

“Not a very common name” Winston said. 

“His mother chose it” Peck felt his throat try to clamp up again, so he cleared it again “I need to ask a favor of you. Concisely, Dr. Stantz and Dr. Spengler” 

“What? Why them ‘concisely’?” Venkman snapped, indignant. 

“It’s an... engineering problem” 

* * *

 

Four hours later the cradle was still giving them a good battle, much to Venkman and Zeddemore’s amusement. 

“I’m pretty sure these instructions were printed wrong” Stantz said, eyes running over the pages again and again, in hopes of finding it suddenly made sense again. Spengler had long since given up on following them, but the attempts to assemble it without the instructions were just as good as with them. Brannon was asleep on his father’s bed with the cats surrounding him. 

“Are we sure all the pieces are in here?” Spengler huffed, looking at the disassembled pieces with a sour face “Or that they are the right ones?” 

“I mean, according to the instructions, yeah, but- like I said, I don’t think they are-” 

“Oh, for cripes sakes-! There’s nothing wrong with the instructions!” Zeddemore sighed “You’re just- bad at reading them” 

“I’m surprised, Pecker” Venkman said “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a cheapskate who’d rather lose an entire day trying to put together furniture than pay someone to do it” 

“It wasn’t about the money, but I figured...” Peck drifted off with a shrug. If he was honest with himself, he’d simply been eager to do that for himself. Do something dad-like in hopes that it would help the rest fall into place “How hard can it be?” 

“Very” Spengler deadpanned. The buzz of the intercom cut Peck off before he could start yelling. 

“Yes?” 

“Um, hi there, boss” came Kylie‘s voice from the horn “Janine sent me to ask if- I quote, the _four stooges_ were still in there with you” 

“Come on in, Miss Gryffin, see for yourself” he said, pressing the lock release button. 

Upon arrival, Kylie seemed at first too charmed with the cats to notice their predicament, when she did, though, she had to make use of all of her willpower not to laugh in their faces. 

“I can see why Janine was getting impatient. She said she would get here and drag you back herself except apparently she promised Dr. Spengler to take it easy for some reason?” 

Spengler’s face colored a bit. 

“Her’s is a delicate condition” Venkman nodded sagely. When Kylie looked at him blankly, he grimaced a bit “I mean, she’s been kinda- uh, she’s been sick. Lately” 

“She said it was nothing serious” Peck said, realizing one second too late that the conversation in which she’d told him that was supposed to not even exist. The ghostbusters, however, didn’t seem to notice. 

“It’s not” Stantz piped in “Egon’s just being protective” 

The alluded cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable, and Peck couldn’t help but think how silly Spengler was sometimes for someone supposedly brilliant. He acted as though he still believed girls had cooties. 

“Either way” Kylie looked like that explanation left her nowhere near satisfied but she was still going to tend to the priorities “She says you better head to the next case ASAP or she’s going to make you sorry you made them pile up” 

“Oh, crap, last time she managed to hide all my socks” Stantz groaned. 

“We are not done with what we came to do here” Spengler weakly protested. Kylie took one look at the pieces of the cradle, then them and smiled hesitantly. 

“You mean you  _couldn’t_  put it together?” 

“The instructions-” Stantz started. 

“I believe some pieces are-” Spengler started at the same time. 

“ _Enough_ ” Zeddemore raised both hands as if to stop an argument between two children “You guys head for the case, I got this” 

“You sure?” Venkman asked, eyeing at the dismembered piece of furniture warily, as though fearing it would get up and attack him any minute now. 

“Yeah, I’m sure, go” 

“Can I stay?” Kylie said, raising her hand. 

“Sure, kid, help me out with this” 

Peck settled on his bed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and wondering if he should just send Zeddemore and the girl on their ways and call someone from the store to get the damn thing done. However, when upon the first ten minutes it became apparent that they actually were succeeding where Stantz and Spengler had failed, he instead got up to fix them some lemonade. It didn’t occur to him until he was already pouring two glasses that it was the same kind of response his mother usually had to people helping out in the house when he was a boy. That and a tip. He wasn’t sure if a tip was appropriate in this context but it sure made him determined to make both their holiday bonuses far richer this year. 

By the time he walked into the bedroom again, the cradle was all but finished and Zeddemore was shaking Kylie’s hand, a pleased smile on his face. 

“Next time those guys start getting all high and mighty about their doctorates, I’m rubbing this all over their faces” 

“I’m actually a little concerned that they put together nuclear technology of they can't put together one of these” 

“Tell me about it” Peck mock-sighed, presenting them the tray with lemonade. The both of them immediately went for it- his mother was right, no American in their right mind turns down a good lemonade. 

“Anyway, what’s with Janine?” Kylie turned to Winston once she’d downed a considerable amount from her glass, her eyes demanding a reply “What’s this about her ’Condition’? Is she OK?” 

Zeddemore seemed very uncomfortable all of a sudden. 

“I... well, I mean” he said into his own glass “I couldn’t tell you, kid, I don’t really  _know”_  

“She reported visiting a doctor a couple of days ago, has she gotten the results yet?” Peck asked as he placed the tray on the carpeted floor for lack of a better place, still thinking about how worried Melnitz had seemed during their talk. 

“I- think so. I mean- Egon would know, I just haven’t asked” 

“You’re a terrible liar, Mr. Zeddemore” 

“Mh-hmm. Makes me wonder how he did the law school thing” Kylie crossed her arms. Zeddemore sighed. 

“Alright, but you two gotta act surprised when they tell you” he paused as Kylie nodded eagerly and Peck shrugged, trying to pretend not to be as eager to know as her “OK, so, uh. There’s a... there's a li’l Spengler on the way” 

Oh.  _Oh_. Peck was barely wrapping his mind around the concept when a sound like a hot kettle escaped Kylie’s lips. She covered her mouth almost immediately but her eyes were glistening. 

“Oh my god. _Ohmygod”_ came her muffled voice “For real?!” 

“She did the home test and the blood test. Both positive” 

“Well... _huh_ ” Peck placed his hands in his pockets, furrowing his brow. He could tell Miss Melnitz liked children and she did have what Venkman referred to as a ‘Momma bear’ air to herself, however, the memory of her worried face made him wonder if these were, in fact, good news. The idea spiraled him into another line of thought and he looked over at Brannon, still asleep, thinking about the boy’s mother and how perhaps a similar worry had been on her mind when she left for good; the possibility that the future father wouldn’t greet the news very well. 

“She wants to tell everyone herself in her own terms” Zeddemore continued, his tone slightly pleading “So  _please_ act surprised when she does. She’ll kill me if she knows I spoiled the surprise” 

“I don’t know if I can act like I don’t know” Kylie said bouncing a bit on her feet with excitement “I feel like I’m going to start screaming when I see her.” 

“Give me a fair warning if you do, I wanna be halfway to Mexico by then” 

“I suppose Dr. Spengler is taking responsibility" Peck said, trying not to sound too judgmental. No such luck, Zeddemore pinned eyes on him with a silent warning. 

“He is” 

Kylie let out a mortified breath, put her glass on the tray and went to search or the mattress among the boxes. 

“No offense meant, I simply don’t see him as...” he trailed off, searching for the right words “...as a family man.” 

Zeddemore huffed amusedly. 

“Y’know what? I thought the same about you at some point”  _ouch_. With every passing second, the possibility that Ava had left because she shared that thought seemed more and more likely. 

“I can’t say I blame you” 

“Yet here you are” Zeddemore motioned for the room. Peck’s night-table was full of the baby books Janine had gotten him. The boxes that had contained the cradle pieces were spilled over the floor and the cradle stood next to Peck’s bed, where the cats were again starting to bunch around Brannon as if to keep him warm. The room seemed somehow merrier for the additions. 

“It’s always nice to defy expectatives” Kylie muttered as she dragged the mattress near the cradle to start peeling the plastic off. 

“You may have a point” Peck conceded quietly as he went to help her. Between the both of them, they unwrapped it and put it inside the cradle. 

“There” Kylie put her hands on her hips, smiling with satisfaction “ _Now_  we can rub it all over the Docs faces” 

“...what should I get Miss Melnitz for when she announces it?” Peck asked. Zeddemore smiled a bit at that. Kylie drew in breath, drawing attention to herself as she ran for the window. 

“Wow” 

“What?” 

“I’d never seen a bird that big” 

Peck could swear he physically felt the color drain from his face. He rushed behind her to peek through the glass and, sure enough, the raven was back. Further to the back, standing on the light cables, but it was there. 

“Shit” he opened the window, coaxing Kylie aside “Hey! Get out of here!” the raven blinked at him, impassive “Go! I will throw something, I warn you”  

“You’re talking to a crow” Zeddemore muttered, a bit concerned. 

“It’s a raven” Kylie corrected him “And I’ll have you know they’re _very_  intelligent” 

“Intelligent indeed, he’s been looking at Brannon” 

“ _Looking_  at him?” Zeddemore repeated, as if unsure of why that was a bad thing. 

“He’s probably curious. The same way the cats are. You do know that thing about black birds carrying off the souls of people they stare at is a myth, right?”  

“You don’t understand” Peck sighed. Of course they didn’t, there was much they didn’t know “Away with you! Shoo! Leave!” he reached for his bookcase, hand closing around something round, a quartz ornament –A gift, he couldn’t even remember who’d given it to him, probably someone trying to get a promotion back in the E.P.A. days- Kylie, perhaps guessing his intentions, raised her palms in a placating gesture and Zeddemore moved to reach him but was too late. He tossed it out the window, where gravity dragged it down before it went nowhere near the bird. At the street level, a car blared its horn and moved away. New York, always in a hurry.  

The raven looked bellow, then brushed its beak with its wings, but made no other movement. 

Overcome with rage, Peck squeezed his body through the window’s frame and began to climb out, all but ready to throw himself at the raven- Kylie protested but he paid no mind. The raven let out a caw, bristling up in alarm and he smiled, triumphant just before a pair of strong arms grabbed him by the waist (He could feel Kylie’s smaller ones pulling him by the arm as well) They fell on the floor in a pile with a noise that woke Brannon. His whimpers sent the cats running. 

“Jesus  _Christ_ , man, don’t scare us like that!” Zeddemore wheezed “What the hell did you think you were doing?!” 

“I...” he paused. If he stopped to think about it, it had been nothing but stupid. He clearly wasn’t in his right mind “I apologize, I just- I want that  _thing_ gone” 

“Well, you got your wish” Kylie said, pointing at the window “Look, it left” 

She was right. Peck breathed out, relaxing, but his calm was short-lived. Brannon let out a sob, threatening to cry, and he had to scramble to his feet to go pick him up, wary of him letting out a wail that would shake the apartment in front of witnesses. 

“It’s gone now, son. You’re safe” he muttered into the infant’s hair. 

“I think we better go” Zeddemore said after a short pause. 

“Yeah, you look busy” Kylie said nervously. 

“I... I am. Thank you” he stammered. Only now was he realizing how _insane_  everything that had just happened must have seemed to them, he could barely look them in the eye “And thank you... for your help as well” 

That eased the tension a bit. Zeddemore smiled at him again on his way out. 

“By the way, you can get Janine something she can snack on. Between her and Egon, we’re running out of cakes and chips at the firehouse” 

“I’ll keep it in mind” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me in the eye and tell me Egon and Ray can put together IKEA furniture. I dare you. I double dare you.

**Author's Note:**

> I think it may be a bit obvious who Brannon's mom is, but shhhh let me pretend I'm good at being subtle.


End file.
